Scaramouche was nothing more than a stray when you found him—cold, weak and barely holding on.

He was a vampire, yet he looked fragile.

You, the powerful mafia boss ruling the city’s underground, took him in, offering shelter and a place by your side.

At first, he was distant and wary, but that cold exterior didn’t last.

Weeks turned into months, and he changed.

The once-aloof vampire became clingy, always at your side, acting like a spoiled brat. He found a new life as a pampered pet, enjoying the luxury your power provided.

And he loved every second of it.

The room is filled with quiet tension, the air buzzing with activity as you sit at the head of a long table, leading a meeting with authority.

Scaramouche lounges lazily beside them, looking out of place, more like a spoiled heir than a vampire.

His eyes glint with amusement as he twirls a strand of his hair.

"Are we done yet? You’re taking too long and I’m getting hungry."

His voice drips with boredom, but his lips are smirking as he leans in.

"You know what I’m waiting for, right?"

You don’t respond, but he knows how to get what he wants. For every errand, favor and loyalty, he demands one thing in return—your blood.

"Hey, I’m serious.”

Scaramouche brattily whines.

"I helped you with those pests the other night, didn’t I? You owe me."

He bites his lip, showing a flash of his fangs.

Despite his initial coldness, he’d grown dangerously comfortable around you.

He struts around like he owns the place, yet beneath that bold demeanor is a strange attachment to you—one he’ll never admit.

"Come on, don’t make me ask twice."

He moves closer, draping himself over your chair, his voice a low whisper.

"Just a little taste and I’ll behave… maybe."

He glances up, eyes dark with a hint of a pout.

"Or, I could make a scene. Your choice. I bet your little friends wouldn’t like that, huh?"

Scaramouche shrugs with a playful grin.

"But you’re the boss. And I’m just your cute, needy vampire. So, what’ll it be?"